Christmas Embers
by Gratiae
Summary: Reid and Calliope's first Christmas together. One-Shot.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.**

**A/N: This short takes place during Chapter 3 of Mystery Muse, after the flashback but before the action in the chapter.**

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_Christmas is not as much about opening our presents as opening our hearts. – Janice Maeditere_

o o o o

24 December, 2008

Dr. Spencer Reid felt acutely out of place as he stared at the wall of cards in the third Hallmark shop he'd been in that day. He'd picked up card after card only to reject one after another. The woman he was shopping for was a magnificently unique woman and no card he scanned did any semblance of justice, none of them fit. He had sent his mother's Christmas package to Las Vegas over a week again and, compared to this, picking and choosing for his mother had been incredibly easy.

He chuckled to himself as a woman nudged her friend and gestured at him, shaking her head and muttering about how men always procrastinate on holiday shopping. Spencer had been trying to find a card for Calliope for two weeks. Her gift was already wrapped, but, no matter how many cards he read, he couldn't find a card that fit her, a card that was right.

The cards were either too maudlin and sentimental or overly humorous – he couldn't find a card that accurately said what he wanted. Christmas was two days away, really one considering they were spending Christmas Eve together, and he was beginning to become exceedingly anxious. Spencer had purchased and returned four cards that he'd bought out of desperation even though he knew as he paid for them that Calliope would never read the cards.

He looked down at the card in his hand and felt the sudden rush of inspiration. He dropped the card back into its slot and hurried over to the isles of wrapping paper and quickly picked out a big, bright red gift bag with huge white snowflakes covering it.

"Merry Christmas, Spencer!" the cheery, plump woman with short grey hair greeted him as he set the bag down at the register.

"Merry Christmas, Anna. How's your sister? I didn't see her this morning."

"She's in Mexico visiting our family."

"That's great. Why didn't you and Geraldo go too?" Spencer asked, pulling out the four dollars the bag came to.

"I'm going tomorrow when mi esposo gets off of work. He couldn't get off any sooner." Anna smiled, handing him a change.

"Tell Geraldo 'Feliz Navidad' for me, ok?"

"Of course! Merry Christmas, Spencer," she said again, handing him the bag.

"Merry Christmas, Anna. I'll see you when you get back. Have fun with your family," Spencer waved at his neighbor and walked out of the store into the snowy streets.

ooo ooo ooo ooo

Calliope pulled the tape out of the drawer and danced to the coffee table where Spencer's Christmas present sat.

"Everyone knows some turkey and some mistletoe… help to make the season bright," she sang along with Ella Fitzgerald as she nudged the glittering wrapping paper across the floor with her foot.

Plopping down on the floor, she took a sip of her coffee and turned the volume up. She grabbed the box and opened it up, running the tips of her fingers over the fabric of the dark blue, wool peacoat before lifting it out and slipped a small wrapped box in the inside pocket of the coat.

She folded the jacket back up, carefully making sure the box stayed in the pocket, and placed it on top of the sparkly green tissue paper. Folding the tissue paper over the jacket, she replaced the top of the box. Calliope unrolled the black wrapping paper and placed the box in the middle. She made quick work of cutting and taping the glittering wrapping paper in place and tying the bright red curling ribbon around it.

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…" Dropping the scissors on the floor, she held her left hand under the thumb and rushing into the kitchen, running water over the cut. Reaching into the drawer next to the sink, she pulled out the Neosporin and a bright neon-green bandage.

She was smearing the Neosporin on the cut when the doorbell rang. Quickly wrapping the bandage around her thumb, she jogged to the door and swung it open.

"Merry Christmas, Magic Man," she smiled, ushering him in. Closing the door behind him, she cleared her throat and looked up. Laughing at the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling, Spencer put the box he was holding down and moved back, wrapping his arms around him and kissing her.

"Merry Christmas Eve, Calliope." He said, still smiling as he rubbed his nose against hers.

"Kiss my finger!" She cried suddenly, pushing her thumb between their mouths.

"What?" he asked, startled.

"I got a boo-boo. You have to kiss it better." She told him, intently.

He smiled widely and kissed the bandaged thumb. "Five?"

"Nope, four today." She said, threading her fingers through his and leading him out of the foyer.

"Well, you look very mature for four," He teased as he grabbed the gift and brought it into the living room and placed it next to hers.

She snorted in laughter and asked, "Do you want some coffee?" as she walked into the kitchen.

"Um, yeah. Coffee would be nice." Spencer sat down on the sofa and watched her flutter around the kitchen. Looking down, he picked up the scissors on the floor and placed them next to the roll of wrapping paper. "Billie Holiday?"

"No, Ella Fitzgerald," Calliope corrected as she brought the coffee mugs into the living room and handed one to him. "Half sugar, like you like."

ooo ooo ooo ooo

Spencer took the wet dish she offered him and dried it off, laughing at she sang along to the Hula Hoop song, doing her best to imitate the chipmunk voice. "You make a terrible squirrel," he told her, putting the dry dish in the cupboard.

"Chipmunk! I'd like to see you do better," she retorted, hitting the reverse button on the radio remote, making the song start over.

Clearing his throat, he started singing along a few bars into the song, "Want a plane that loops the loop, Me, I want a hula hoop. We can hardly stand the wait, please, Christmas, don't be late."

Calliope was laughing silently, doubled over and holding the sink for support as he continued before moving behind her and scooped her up into his arms. Shrieking in surprise, she grabbed his shirt with one hand and smacked him with the other.

"Give a girl some warning, will ya?!"

"What? Did I do something wrong?" He asked, feigning innocence. The confidence he had when he was with her surprised him, but he liked it. It made everything more… _comfortable_.

"Where are we going?"

"Right here," he answered, plopping her down on the couch in front of the Scrabble board. "You got my sweater wet," he told her, pulling out of black velvet bag of letter tiles.

"And whose fault is that, exactly?" She laughed poking him in the ribs before picking her tiles out. "Me first?"

"Of course, considering everything I try and go first you maul me."

"It's a character quirk. You're a profiler, you should know that."

"Profilers don't tend to look at how people play Scrabble, Sweetheart. Though, the way one kid played of Go did help our profile. Hmm…"

"I make a joke and you totally miss it," she giggled, kissing his check.

"Hey! Don't look at my tiles. I'm on to you, Ms. Sellers."

"Foiled again. Ok, c…a…z…i…q…u… and e. Cazique. So that's twenty-five points, plus the double letter, so thirty-five and then the fifty for using all seven tiles at once. Seventy-five to me." Calliope looked up and smiled at him expectantly.

"Ok, the odds of that are literally… .0382 percent. That's ridiculous. I can't believe you pulled that."

"That's ridiculous? The fact that you can calculate the probability in your head so quickly – _that's_ what's ridiculous."

"Calliope, I have PhDs in mathematics, engineering and chemistry – My entire collegiate career was spend calculating probabilities and odds. If I hadn't been able to calculate that in my head, I'd still be working on those degrees. Besides, calculating odds is one of the easiest mathematical equations."

"I don't think you're ability to do that is due to your PhDs, Magic Man. I think it's your brilliant brain that lets calculate in your head.

ooo ooo ooo ooo

Calliope smiled and laughed as she watched him peel away the glittering wrapping paper, trying to get as little glitter on him as possible.

"I'm going to be covered in this stuff for a week, aren't I?" he asked her, laughing with her.

"It's a possibility," she giggled, taking a sip of her coffee.

He rolled his eyes and tossed the paper onto the floor. Removing the top of the box, he brushed back the tissue paper and pulled out the jacket.

"Oh wow, this is great," Spencer said, touching the wool.

"Well, you kept complaining that you needed a new jacket," she said, biting her lip.

"No, I'm serious. I really like it, Calliope. I love the blue," he said, pulling it on.

"I got it a bit big because I didn't want the arms to be too short. You're very tall, you know."

"So I've been told," he joked, standing up to pull on the jacket.

"You're gonna have to take the sides in a bit," Calliope noted, as she took him in. "You need to eat more – you're too skinny."

Spencer snorted and raised his eyebrows, "Says you?"

"Yes, says me!" Calliope said, defiantly.

"And you're what? Eighty pounds?"

"It's not polite to talk about a girls weight, Dr. Reid." She informed him seriously, "Besides, I weigh more than eighty pounds, thank you very much."

"I could fit you in my suitcase."

"Then could I come with you on cases?"

Spencer laughed and knelt down to where she sat on the couch and kissed her, "As much as I'd like that, I'm not letting you anywhere near my case files."

"Good, cause I don't want to be anywhere near them." She shuddered, tucking a lock of shocking violet and bright red hair behind her ear, "I dunno how you look at that stuff all day long, Spencer. I couldn't do it. I have to be around happy stuff. That's why I like teaching the painting and drawing classes. Everybody's always laughing and happy."

"That's where you belong," he said sitting next to her. "You belong where the sun is, where you can smile and laugh and make people happy."

"What about you? Why is it that you 'belong' in a place that has you seeing horrible things every day?"

Spencer didn't answer, instead he mearly slipped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple. Furrowing his brow, he shifted his shoulders. "The jacket's a bit heavy on the right. What's…"

He pulled out the small wrapped box Calliope had hidden in the inside pocket and laughed. "What's this?"

"What's it look like, silly?"

He tore the silver wrapping paper off and opened the box. His mouth hung open a bit as he fingered the silver pocket watch that lay on the green velvet cushine. 'Dr. Spencer Reid' was engraved in script on the front and he ran the tip of his finger over he engraving.

"How'd you know I've always wanted a pocket watch?"

"I didn't. It just seemed like something you'd like, something you'd think was cool. Open it up."

Following her instructions, he opened the clasp and a folded picture of them fell out. He picked it up, unfolding it, and smiled when he saw it was the strip of photobooth photos she's dragged him into taking. The first three were of Spencer laughing and Calliope doing something silly, but the fourth had managed to capture them both looking at each other, Calliope's gaze could only be described as adoring and Spencer wanted to go back and relive the few minutes in the photobooth again.

Looking again at the watch, he noticed the engraving on the inside and smiled. _'Always make the time to smile. Love, Calliope."_

"I love it," he said, carefully tucking the photo back in and closing the watch. Smiling, he shrugged off the jacket, folding it up and putting it back in the box, before handing hers to her. "Go on."

She tugged the card off the box and laughed at the Scrabble tiles glued to the reconstructed red snowflake bag. 'Merry Christmas, Muse' was spelled out of the front and she smiled as she read his chicken scratch inside. Leaning towards him, she kissed him softly, "It's perfect."

Standing the card up carefully on the coffee table, she slid her fingernail under the tape and pulled the crooked wrapping paper off. Lying on the middle of a bright yellow and pink knit afghan was a beautiful brooch. She ran her finger over the four blue and silver flowers.

"It's beautiful, Spencer." She said, leaning her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her. "It's a 1920s replica, right?"

"Nope," he said, kissing the top of her head.

"It's not? It looks like it is."

"No, I mean, it's not a replica. It was made in 1923."

"Oh, Spencer… it's absolutely stunning. I love it. Thank you, Spencer."

ooo ooo ooo ooo

Spencer's feet were resting on the coffee table and Calliope was snuggled close against him, her head drooping down and her arm laid laxly across his waist. Spencer made to move a bit, but she growled and shook her head.

"No moving. I is com-fer-ble."

"You… is… com-fer-ble?" He repeated, shaking his head.

"Sí, sí."

"Has someone stolen your grammar skills?"

"Grammar dies as midnight, dear."

Spencer laughed and kissed her head, watching Richard Gere climb up the ladder escape to rescue his princess.

"You have a Julia Roberts mouth," she said as the camera panned Julia Roberts.

"What?"

"Your lips," she said, pulling back and tracing her fingers over his lips, "they're very wide and full and when your smile, your mouth takes up most of your face."

"You don't like my mouth?"

"No," she whispered, kissing him, "I love your mouth. I love how your mouth changes constantly. You're so expressive with your mouth and, especially, with your eyes. A million things flash across your face when you're thinking and I can see it all in your eyes and in your mouth. I like it."

"You're a goof," he told her, kissing her and hitting the mute button as the credits started to roll. "I've been wondering about something, Calliope. Where you here in Fredericksburg when Charlie Wilkinson was kidnapping and killing college girls two years ago?"

"I lived here, yeah, but we, Grandpa and I, we went home to Dahlia when that was going on. Grandpa didn't want me to be around Fredericksburg until it was all resolved. It worked out well though – I got to spend a few weeks with Mammy and create some mayhem, so, all-in-all, it was a success in my book."

"Wait – Dahlia? You mean Dahlia Plantation? In Williamsburg?" Spencer asked, his brow furrowing. "You're _that_ Sellers family?" Calliope looked at the ground and nodded before looking up at him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to make sure you actually like me before you found out who I am."

"Of course I _actually_ like you. Why wouldn't I? You're wonderful and amazing. I can't help but smile every time I'm with you," Spencer told her. "I just don't understand why you're with me. You could have anyone, someone heck of a lot better than I am."

Calliope giggled and tackled him, knocking him onto his back and scattering the dregs of popcorn left at the bottom of the bowl all over. "Better than you, Dr. Reid?" She asked, perched on top of him. He bit the inside of his cheek as she sent his senses into overdrive. "No girl could do better than you, Dr. Reid. Finding someone better than _you_ is most definitively not possible." She balanced on her elbow, one hand tangling in his hair as she leaned down and kissed him. Spencer curled his arms around her waist, partly to hold her closer and partly to make sure she didn't fall off onto the floor, as his own balance on the couch was precarious at best.

The fire crackling happily and soft crooning of Ella Fitzgerald were the only sounds as the two lay silently on the couch, completely caught up in each other. Spencer rolled Calliope over onto her back as the last log gave way and the fire reduced itself to flickering embers. One of her hands was cupping the back of his neck, keeping his lips close to hers, and the other was clenching the back of his shirt under his sweater.

Spencer groaned into her mouth and adjusted himself over her, trailing his hand down her neck. His hand brushed the side of her breast as he was reaching for her waist and his mind reeled at the intimate the contact.

"Spencer, Spencer, stop. Spencer, I want to stop," Calliope pushing him away, breathless, and Spencer rolled off, shuffling himself a bit away from her, his chest moving rapidly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't – I'm sorry," he muttered, his eyes squeezed shut and the arms he was resting on were shaking with the effort to regain control of himself.

"Don't be sorry," Calliope snorted, still breathing heavily. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just – this is all happening too fast. I'm not ready. I'm sorry." She moved a little closer to him, but stopped when she saw him shake his head.

"Just a second. Just give me a second," he muttered, desperately trying to mentally shifting through the fog his desire for her had created in his head. A few deep breaths later he opened his eyes and looked up at her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be sorry," he parroted her words, reaching for her hand. "If you're not ready, then you're not ready. That's ok. Nothing says we have to do anything, Sweetheart."

She nodded and took the hand he offered. "I'm – I… I don't want to have sex, Spencer. Not that I don't want to have sex with you! I do! I mean… I, um… I'm… crap… this isn't coming out well, is it?"

"You want to wait till your married." He supplied.

"No, not necessarily. It's just that… sex, making love, is special. It not something that supposed to be thrown around lightly. And it makes everything complicated. I just… I don't know."

"Calliope, it's ok. I promise. You don't have to explain yourself," he told her, motioning for her to cuddle close to him. It took her half a second to be sitting comfortably in his arms and resting her head on his chest. "You know I don't want to be with you just for –"

"I know," she cut him off, looking up at him.

"Good. We can figure this out as we go, Sweetheart. Though, I should probably leave soon. It's nearly two in the morning." He gestured at the clock on the DVD player, but made no effort to move away from her, rather he held her a bit tighter, both watching the fire as the embers smoldered out.

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**A/N:**

**MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!**

**I know this is a few days after Christmas, but what can I say. Life's busy and then you die. And inbetween you write Spencer Reid Fanfiction. 3**

**Anywho, I hope you like it. There's picture of the Christmas presents in my photobucket. Oh, also - I stole the jacket and pocket watch from 4x17 Demonology. Also, pictures of Reid in the outfit from this episode which might just be my favorite Reid outfit as of yet. 3**

**Thanks for reading and I hope you like it! Tell me what you think, good or bad!**

**Love, Thalia**

**P.S. Matthew Gray Gubler voices Simon in Alvin and the Chipmunks and Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquile, hence the mention of the chipmunk Hula Hoop song. XD**


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